The Temptation Of The Snake
by Saiph Nebula
Summary: EVA/BIG BOSS... kind of Ocelot. A challange on how it went with these three working together in the earlier Patriot days. Now a multi-chap fic. Chapter 3 up!
1. Chapter 1

Things had gone from bad to worse since the debacle that was Operation Snake Eater; in fact, they were downright _craptastic_. But of all the things that had happened after being kicked out of the Chinese People's Liberation Army for bringing back false information regarding the philosopher's legacy, standing _here_, in front of _him_, had to be the most surprising.

He handed me a glass of red wine. I took it warily; being poisoned seemed like a lame way to go if he was after revenge, plus it just wasn't his style. The experimental sip I took made him laugh as he gulped down his own, a cigar between his fingers in his other hand.

There was no point beating around the bush.

"What are you doing here Snake?"

His smile was cold, forced. "Haven't you heard? It's 'Big Boss' now."

"Big Boss..." I echoed, "No kidding." Well that had to have been a kick in the teeth, receiving _her_ title the way he did. Perhaps it had been meant as a reminder from the higher-ups: 'We own you, and don't you forget it.'

Though I suppose, in retrospect, I could never imagine another person continuing her legacy, her name. I wonder if he saw it that way too...

"You've not answered my question" I reminded him.

Snake – Big Boss – settled himself in the cushioned chair opposite me. His place was enough to put my crappy single-roomed home to shame; the surroundings when he'd turned up at my doorstep had certainly been a step down from the last time we'd seen each other. Not that I'd cared much about the décor when I'd opened the door to find him standing there, his one visible eye twinkling at me. I wonder if he'd started this wine before walking my way. Seemed likely – why else would he be in such a... kindly mood. Luring me into a false sense of security perhaps? Why bother, no one would have cared if he'd re-carpeted the floor with my insides back then.

I mused over all this while he puffed on his cigar, the smell bringing back memories...

"Heard you were in trouble. Making more enemies then friends."

I snorted a mockery of a laugh,"Well that's what happens when you fail a mission, when you let one slip through the net unscathed."

"Oh I was plenty scathed. You just weren't the one to do it..."

I wasn't so sure about that. 'All are guilty' and all that. Just because I'd admitted the full truth in the end didn't excuse the lies I'd told before. I cleared my throat, tasting the wine on my tongue. It wasn't cheap either. Imported. I bet he brought it here with him, though I never really had him figured for a wine guy.

"So why would you care if I'd made a few enemies Sna- _Big Boss_?"

What? My flirting with him hadn't been _all_ pretend!

That cigar came up to rest between his teeth, the wine glass twirling in his other hand thoughtfully,"I have a proposition for you."

That I rose my eyebrows too, "I've heard that before." The huskiness in my voice was a mix of exhaustion and, yes, suggestiveness. Eyeing him in the chair, wine in hand, I couldn't stop myself remembering the firmness of his body under mine... the wariness and mistrust seemed to just leak out of me the longer I was in his presence. He'd been like that; reassuring, calming. The Boss had had the same gift with people. That was what made them both so deadly. I, on the other hand, had always relied on my femininity and the stupid gullibility of lonely men.

It had never worked with him, and that had frustrated me to no end. My mission during operation Snake Eater had quickly become personal every time he'd rejected my advances. At first I'd suspected he played for the other side, it was more common among military types then people liked to think; take Volgin for example, and Raikov. Even Ocelot – not that Snake, the object of his boyish attentions, had noticed. Finally getting him out of his pants had been a personal victory, though I'd told myself it was only because it would be easier to... subdue him afterwards.

I held no fantasies about that moment. Sex and death and violence... it's like one big circle. You never truly feel alive until you're taking part in one of them, whether you're edging towards ecstasy or your final moments.

I tell myself that's why I'm walking forwards and planting myself on the edge of his seat. I'd had too much death and violence lately, and not enough of the one thing that outdid them both, that made this whole charade worth it.

"So, what are you proposing this time?"

"I want you to come back to the states with me."

That... I did not expect. Clearly he could see this on my face, since he took a manful gulp of his wine and removed the cigar from his lips while he waited for my eyebrows to fall back out of my hairline.

"Why on earth would you want me to go to America with you?"

"Well, EVA..." another inhalation followed by him blowing a tunnel of smoke into the air, "I think I could use someone like you, if I could only trust you."

I laughed, putting down the wine. I think I'd need a clear head for this, "Then why the hell are you here?"

_Fool me once, shame on you..._

"Neither of us have many options..." he began, his focus trailing past me to the dark window.

I braced myself on the edge of the seat, my head tilting to the side. My hair was longer now, long enough to fall over my shoulder and sweep against his with the motion. "That's not all though, is it." I stated.

No denial. No explanation either. It was then I started looking at him, really looking. I'd been trained to understand men and women to the most intimate degree. I could tell people things about themselves that even they didn't know. Watching him now, I saw a man... who'd made some mistakes, gained a few more internal scars. I saw a man alone. The real kind of alone; the sort that was a burden to carry and that couldn't be relieved easily.

He wasn't looking for my friendship either, nor my camaraderie. Not even a lover. I don't suppose he even knew what he was looking for just yet. Perhaps a place to belong to, a place in the world he'd _earned, _not been tricked into and manipulated for.

He was watching my hair now, the gentle brush of my unkempt blonde tresses over his arm... ah. So there was his selling point, _that_ was the reason he thought he could trust me. I was the only other person who had truly known the woman from whom he'd gained his name. I'd asked him if they'd been lovers once, they way he watched me now made me think 'yes'.

I spoke as if my words were sacred, and in a way, they almost were when I mentioned The Boss, "You think _she_ would have trusted me too."

"I think she did once."

Blunt. Honest. To the point. Have to like a man who can get right to it.

"Maybe she understood _why_ she could trust me..." I told him quietly, slowly bringing up my hand to run it across the line of his eye-patch.

_I'll be your eyes from now on..._

I laughed.

"You didn't react like that last time I suggested you go back" he muttered to himself, taking the cigar from his mouth to twirl it between his fingertips. I reached out and took it from him before answering, taking a short puff and tasting his mouth.

"I knew I wouldn't accept the offer last time"

"So you will now?"

Sharp as a knife. I didn't reply, merely gazed at the smouldering end of the cigar in deep thought.

Go back to America and do what? He was asking more of me then he was explaining. "So, what if I do go back, then what?"

"Then what," he echoed musingly, his attention being drawn somewhere away from me, "that's the question isn't it. Always 'what happens next'"

"No rest for the wicked." I murmured, "I think you've had a little too much."

"Yes, yes. Too much. Always too much..."

Now I was unsettled. Was there a chance that the enigmatic soldier beside me had finally been tipped over the edge? It was a depressing thought, one I pushed out of my mind as I placed the cigar between his lips gently. That brought him back to me. He looked almost dazed, if I didn't know any better I'd say he'd been tranquillised.

"I'm going back in two days EVA, make your decision by then."

"Wow. Two days to decide whether I should ditch this shit-hole and return to the merry U.S of A... you know, you still haven't told me what I'd be returning _for"_

Another long puff on his cigar, another long glance across the room at things I couldn't see. "A job, how does that sound?"

"Suspect" I retorted honestly.

He laughed curtly, "And so it should. What if I told you that things were going to _change _EVA, that war itself will change."

"I'd be concerned. War is our business, after all."

"_Exactly_"

Now I was completely lost. War changing? The only thing that ever changed was the weaponry, the tactics. People and technology getting smarter and more deadly. With a sigh, I gave into my curiosity, settling myself a little more comfortably on the arm of his chair. "Go on then, what job would this be exactly?"

"Can't say."

"Can't or won't?"

"Bit of both. Come on, don't give me that look. You can trust me, you know."

Vexation turned to scepticism. "What reason have I to trust you? Besides the fact that it's that or getting stuck in this dump?"

I felt restless now, unable to remain seated at his side I stood up to stretch my legs and walked towards a large stone fireplace that took up a fair part of the far wall. Drawing closer I realised it was new, it didn't fit with the rest of the slightly dated décor. The implications weren't missed by me, and I wasn't as surprised by his nostalgia as I probably should have been.

I heard him stand from the chair and follow me over, coming to a stop just a few paces from me. We both stared silently at that empty fireplace until he began speaking again.

"I need someone like you around me EVA. Someone else who _knows_, who can remind me..."

My laugh at his words was dry, unfelt. "Need me huh? Listen, you need a reminder of days past, rustle up some photographs, keep a god-damn diary for fuck's sake. But I won't be dragged around the world to act as a-"

Hands on my hips spinning me round, rough, demanding. Just like I remember. I wouldn't say the kiss he caught my lips in was passionate, but desperate. Heated and wet and tasting of wine and smoke. For a split second I actually managed to forget everything. I put it down to the element of surprise in his assault on my mouth. The shock didn't stop me reciprocating though. My hands weaved their way into his hair, pulling fiercely as he growled against my smile. The temptation of the Snake.

"Say you'll come back..." he asked with soft demand against the crook of my neck. My hand worked it's way down past his navel, tracing the faded remains of a thin scar over his hip.

"Give me a reason."

This time we were up against the cold stone of the fireplace, my legs wrapped firmly around his waist. When it was over I let him carry me back to the chair and settle us both down, myself curved over his arm and fitted to his lap. The cigar had burnt down to nothing, just a dim ember of light in the dark room.

"Do you think she would approve?" I whispered into the shadows, knowing he understood my question. The Boss had touched us both with her vision for the future, embedded into our hearts that respect, admiration and love with her sacrifice.

He traced long lines down my side for quite some time before answering.

"Don't you trust me yet?"

I smiled, turning my head up to run my lips across his jaw.

"You have forty-eight hours to make me."

* * *

Disclaimer; All rights to Konami.

AN; Well, another challange successfully completed. As a reformed EVA-hater, I thought I owed her a little something ;p


	2. Chapter 2

You know they say how time flies when you're having fun? Well, those forty-eight hours just _soared_ by.

Now it's over a month later and my life since coming back to America has been significantly _fun free_.

John pretty much up and left days after arriving in my 'new home', as he called it. An ex-military base filled with too many men in suits and not one of them interesting enough to take my mind off the dull days and long nights. Today, however, should have brought a little excitement since we were due a visit from another senior member of Zero's secret club.

Imagine my surprise when _he_ walked in, the revolver at his side in full display. Honestly, the boy was barely more then a child. I didn't even want to begin scrutinising his psychological profile; he had a little too much love for his gun then was healthy, in my opinion.

"So it's true then?" he greeted me with a sneer, "John's gone and recruited himself a live-in whore!"

If I hadn't know Ocelot's taunting merely stemmed from jealously I'd probably have retaliated with more then my middle finger. As it was, I happily smirked at him from behind my gesture and made sure that from that day on, the purple-red bruise on my neck left from John's last goodbye was on full-display whenever the cowboy kid was around. It wasn't hard to make sure I bumped into him at least once a day since the base I was living on was tiny; made up of only a small mess hall that held around twenty people, basic living quarters which consisted of one room each and shared showers, plus the three separate buildings used by security personal, a bunch of science-y looking guys and the higher-ups.

Naturally it nettled me to know Ocelot had clearance for every section of the damn base when I wasn't even allowed to have lunch with the researchers.

Which quickly takes me back to the subject of what the hell I was even _doing_ in the base grounds!

"You've yet to be assigned a specific role Miss Eva," I'd been told.

"I was told I'd have a _job_, you know. By John – Big Boss _himself_! What do you mean I haven't been 'assigned a specific role'?"

Don't tell me that John had meant _this_ would be my job, a 'live-in' as Ocelot had put it. If that were so then I'd be on the first plane out of the country... as soon as I could get my hands on the necessary paperwork.

The man in the expensive looking suit I'd been speaking to blundered over his words, "Well your records say you're still... I mean to say, you haven't been given authority to... er..."

"What he means is you're not _trusted_ yet," a most unwelcome voice spoke from behind me.

I spun on the spot, hair whipping out behind me to strike Ocelot across the chest. I noted briefly that he had gotten taller, whilst he simply grinned down at me with his eyes sparkling triumphantly, "John may trust you, but the people in charge don't," he explained, "We think perhaps John's... intimate entanglement with you has clouded his judgement. I wouldn't be surprised if you orchestrated your entire sordid affair to infiltrate our organisation."

"That's right," I sighed dramatically, "I spent years travelling from hovel to hovel while I waited for him to come rescue me and dump me in another forsaken hell-hole with absolutely no explanation as to what was going on. I'm a diabolical master-mind!"

My control over my temper over the past few days had really begun to wear thin, and bumping into Ocelot was just the straw that broke the camel's back.

He smirked at me, "I thought you had a little more control, EVA. What a shame."

"Listen, pretty boy, I want to talk to John or I'm out of here, understand?"

I knew I wasn't exactly in a position to make demands, apparently my connections with Big Boss himself didn't stretch further then the vague sense of respect I received... as long as I wasn't doing anything _bad. _It had felt like years since I'd been able to behave freely, and I didn't like it. Throwing a strop was going to get me nowhere with Ocelot, flirting would be even less useful, so my womanly charms were a bust. The only weapon I had was John, and he wasn't even around!

"John's busy," Ocelot spat, "Not that it would make a difference if he were here."

"Oh really," I purred, barely aware of the man shifting uncomfortably behind me, "It's awfully odd how he disappears on a mission at the last minute and then you turn up to plague me..."

We were both players, and we knew it. Going up against one of your own was usually a waste of time. But I had an ace up my sleeve... or a Jack.

Ocelot brought out that damn gun and twirled it round his finger in a move I knew was meant to intimidate me. I cocked my head to one side and placed a hand on my hip, watching him impatiently. Whatever it was about my stance, he didn't like it. He fumbled and almost dropped the gun, sliding it back into it's holster to cover his mistake.

"You must think you're pretty important just because you're screwing around with him. You'd be nothing without John, and you know it."

Ouch.

Ocelot turned on his heel (literally, where did get those boots!?) and stalked off, clearly thinking he'd had the last laugh.

"So when is he due back?" I called after him, "It's getting awful lonely around here..."

No response other then a restrained shrug of the shoulders. Ah, soon then. I turned with a smile to the man behind me, fluttering my lashes.

"Sorry you had to see that, but I was wondering if you could do me just a tiny little favour..."

* * *

Two days later I way lying in my room with John's body slumped on top of me, sweat making us both gleam a little in the harsh light. I smiled against his shoulder, glad that the suit from before had agreed to send my 'urgent' message to Big Boss as soon as he arrived.

"Welcome back." I whispered against his throat.

It was the first thing either of us had said to each other in the past two hours, from the moment he'd walked through my door.

He grunted, pressing his lips against my shoulder as he spoke, "You throw quite the party."

"I've had a _long_ time to plan, after all." I didn't bother to hide the irritation in my voice, "I've done nothing but stare at the walls for the past few weeks. If I'd known my life would have only had a change of scenery when I agreed to come with you, I'd have stayed back in Hanoi."

John rolled off me, squeezing into the small space between myself and the wall. "I didn't expect to get shipped off so quickly. It's not my fault EVA."

I let out a dry laugh as he immediately leaned to the end of the bed to pull a cigar from the pocket of his discarded jacket. "I never said it was John, I'm used to empty promises by now," he made to protest but I held a hand up to stop him, "Besides, I think I know what the problem is."

"Problem?" he repeated between puffs, whipping the match in his hand from side to side to extinguish the flame; all it took was the sudden, unexpected motion, the strong breeze...

"Didn't you think it odd that you had to leave so suddenly? And where exactly did you go – was it _dire_?"

John shrugged, his one eye settling on me as if patiently waiting for something. The stillness surrounding him unnerved me. It reminded me of her, The Boss, a deadly force hidden behind gentle elegance and beauty.

"You know I can't say."

I rolled my eyes, "What? Did I miss the initiation ceremony? If Ocelot was involved I bet it involved chains and paddles..."

John grimaced at the mental image we were both struck with, "I don't remember you being so vulgar."

"You remember EVA," I reminded him.

"So who are now, huh?"

That stumped me. After having to disappear after my failed mission I'd only focused on losing all identity... not rebuilding one. As John settled down amongst the ruffled covers and discarded pillows I found myself realising why I'd been so frustrated lately. It _wasn't_ necessarily because I felt trapped, stuck in who-knows-where and expected to do nothing for days on end until given further instruction... it was because I had never _not_ been told what to do, who to be. I'd spent the last few weeks pulling myself apart as I tried to figure out who I was now, what was expected of me. Years of living behind fake names and persona's had eroded my entire self-identity. That was, after all, what made me so useful. But if that wasn't what John had recruited me for... then what good was I? Forgetting who you were was one thing, trying to remember was another. How did he even know I had something to offer besides...

"Fuck, Ocelot was right!" I burst out, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. Behind me John chocked as he all but swallowed his cigar. "Bastards, the pair of you!"

"EVA, what the hell...?"

John had pushed himself up to lean on his elbow and was watching me with genuine bewilderment. I felt myself flush red with anger at my own stupidity, at _his_ audacity! I'd believed him when he spoke of The Boss and the apparent bond we shared by being one of the few she'd trusted. Her death had followed us both like a ghost, and I had been naïve enough to think he might actually have felt something...

"You can tell whoever is in charge here that I'm out!" I fumed, throwing the covers from my shoulders and striding across the room to retrieve my clothes. I didn't give a damn that I was on full display as I wrestled with my inside-out knickers. "I've done plenty of questionable things as a spy, a soldier, but I'll not willingly be made a harlot!"

"Har-what? EVA, when exactly did you go crazy?"

"Oh right about the time I agreed to stepping on that plane with you!" I fell back on the bed with one leg in my underwear and wriggled it up my body, not even caring that they were inside out. I snapped my body away as John's hand came down on my shoulder to stop me standing again, only to suddenly find his arms wrapped around my waist and pulling me back to the bed.

"Would you please just sit still and explain what's going on? Did something happen while I was away?"

"No, _nothing_ happened. That's exactly it! I don't understand why you'd bring me all the way here just so you could have a regular fuck whenever you felt like it!"

"That's not what I-"

Growling angrily I tried to push him away, only to have him swear loudly and roll over, pinning me to the bed. Infuriated, I cried out, bringing my hand back with as much force as I could before hitting him twice around the face. It didn't bother him at all, I expect I had as much effect as a butterfly trying to break through a brick wall.

"Just let me _go_." I hissed.

"Not until you've heard me out, so **calm down**!"

I stopped struggling against him long enough to glare, and I'll admit I contemplated spitting in his one eye – just for good measure. But in the moment I took to stop and look at him, trying to stare him down, I noticed the subtle glimmer of... desperation?

"Right," he said slowly, "Explain."

I took a deep breathe, feeling the lines of his stomach against mine as his lower body weighted down my own. "You never needed me here." I began, my voice subdued. I didn't want to sound pitiful or pathetic, or like I was looking for some reassurance that he _needed_ me. I was just stating facts. "I'm no use to you for anything more then... company, whenever it suits you."

He was already shaking his head before I'd even finished my sentence. "You fool EVA. Didn't you listen to anything I told you back in Hanoi?"

"I'm _not _a fool, John. We both know how to play this game. If this was what you wanted me for, you should have just said so. Did you think I'd refuse _you_?"

The pause was long... and awkward. And John was looking at me like he'd never seen me before.

I continued, "This is ridiculous. I can't stay shut up here playing the part of a part-time girlfriend. I'd rather be out there risking my neck on my own terms. I feel like a _prisoner_ here John. If you leave me alone again I don't know what I'd do... well, actually, I do. Though it may involve homicide and jamming Ocelot's revolver up his-"

John started violently, too distracted to notice the way his hips ended up grinding mine into the bed, "Ocelot!?" he echoed, "Here? When?"

Trying not to bite through my bottom lip I answered, "A week or so, why? I thought you already knew..."

John rolled off me, fishing around for his abandoned clothes. They still smelled of gunpowder and mud. "God-damn it, the little punk bastard!"

Perhaps I wouldn't be the one guilty of violating Ocelot with his own weapon... that sounded so wrong, yet so satisfying – for me.

My mood suddenly greatly improved. I'm sure my eyes visibly glowed as I took in these new angry vibes John was throwing around with his curses, "Oh! Is someone in trouble? I've got to get a front row seat to the spanking session!"

He didn't reply, or even bother to acknowledge my childishness. He hadn't changed a great deal, and it irked me. I may have finally gotten him in the sack (more then once) but I still had no hold over him at all. I sat up on the bed as he pulled his belt tight around his waist, as if trying to deny they'd ever come off in the first place.

"... John?"

He grunted, forcing his arms into his shirt roughly, shrugging as he buttoned it up. "I have to go. Keep yourself busy for a while."

And with that, he was gone. Leaving me to blink at the door as it slammed shut behind him.

Well. Talk about an abrupt welcoming.

I spent all of three seconds pondering on what to do next before leaping from the bed, throwing on my clothes and following him out the door. It wasn't like he'd specifially told me to stay put...

Not that it would have made any difference whatsoever if he had.

* * *

Disclaimer: I own no rights to Metal Gear or its characters. I am merely a puppet master of misery! Mwhahaha!

For Russia. Because you lurve the sexy.


	3. Chapter 3

I followed John as silently as a ghost as he strode away down the grey corridors, his shoulders squared off tensely. Several men jumped from his path as we passed, eyeing him wearily until they caught sight of my grinning face. Then they simply looked confused. What could be amusing to me about John storming about the place in a homicidal rage? Why, knowing who would be on the receiving end of his rage, of course! If I had the nerve I'd have announced it to the entire base, knowing there were several people who hated the pompous arse as much as I did; they'd have _paid_ _money_ to see this little show.

I did think I'd be forced to stop when John steered toward a larger, black bricked building I'd never been allowed to enter before. But when he barged his way past the two guards without so much as a word, I simply slid on in behind him as the two men picked themselves up off the ground, dazed and confused.

I admit... I did then begin to worry. I wanted to see Ocelot get what was coming to him, of course, but John suddenly seemed so... out of control. There was definitely more to this then he'd been telling me, and I was glad I'd followed him out. It seemed if I wanted to find out what was going on I'd have to do it myself.

It was emptier in this building, we didn't pass anybody until John suddenly turned sharply and practically kicked a heavy wooden door from its hinges as he burst into the room. From my vantage point I'd been able to catch a glance of his face as he turned. His eyes... they were gleaming in a way I'd never seen before; not even during Operation Snake Eater. His jaw and neck were straining with tension to the point where his muscles bulged slightly.

I quickened my pace, wondering if I was suddenly going to have to _stop_ a homicide. The thought kind of depressed me a little, but I knew John would regret killing Ocelot when he calmed down a little. And if he didn't them there was no reason he couldn't go back and finish the job later.

As I hurried through the door, closing it quickly behind me to stop anyone else interfering, I realised we'd wandered into Ocelot's private quarters. The floor and walls were all black tiled, but his belongings were far fancier then the crummy bed and dresser I'd been given. I wasn't a materialistic girl, but knowing John might be living some place like this... then coming to see me, living like a common grunt...

So it satisfied me slightly as John grabbed Ocelot, who was climbing from his bed with shock written over his face, and threw him against the desk beside him hard enough for the legs to cave and send Ocelot tumbling to the ground.

I flicked the lock across the door. This was something that needed to be sorted in private.

"John..." I said warningly. He didn't seem to notice me standing behind him. Didn't notice or didn't care.

"You're an arrogant little shit, kid." He hissed, pulling Ocelot up to slam him against the wall.

Ocelot tried to say something, his eyes rolling in his head for a moment. I stepped forward then, knowing my joy wasn't sincere enough to let this happen right in front of me. I mean, I didn't like Ocelot one bit and had no objection to seeing him take a thrashing – but it was John I was concerned for. Would this get him into some sort of trouble? Ocelot had said Big Boss wasn't the one in charge around here...

"Snivelling little rat. This is what I meant when I said you couldn't be trusted!"

Ocelot laughed, still looking a little dazed. But I had to hand it to him, most people would have been wetting themselves by now. He simply looked John over once before glaring at me over his shoulder, something John saw since he shook Ocelot roughly by the collar of his shirt.

"That mission was a waste of my time. You knew I wasn't needed there. What's the plan huh? Why are you even here?"

Ocelot's breath was coming in ragged, I was pretty sure John had at least cracked some of his ribs throwing him into the desk.

"_Her_, she's why I'm here." He spat. John didn't even spare me a glance before raising one fist and slamming it into Ocelot's face. He crumpled to the ground with a string of curses as blood poured from his nose.

"Not for _that_ reason, you stupid bastard!" Ocelot shouted from between his hands, now cupping his face to try and stop the flow of red.

"Oh I know," John breathed heavily, his fists still clutching at his sides, "I brought her into this, and I say she belongs here. If you don't like it then we're both gone. If you think for a second I'll be pushed around and manipulated by a little punk like you-"

"Oh, spare me." Ocelot bit, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the blood from his chin, "You think you can trust her? She'll be on her back and spewing our secrets to the next moron who catches her eye without a second thought for what we're trying to achieve."

My angry hiss went ignored, but I daren't intrude any further. This seemed to be one of those macho things, best to let them settle it themselves – even if it meant being talked about like I wasn't even in the room. Still, it was interesting to hear what they really thought.

"You're wrong there," John told him darkly, his voice lowered to a dangerous tone, "I already cleared this with Zero. She's in. Deal with it."

With that, he turned and walked calmly from the room, pausing for a second to look back at Ocelot as he pulled himself upright rather unsteadily.

"And next time you get your panties in a twist, have a fish around for your balls and come deal with me personally. Next time it won't just be your belongings that get broken."

The sound of his footsteps echoed around us as Ocelot and I stared each other down. I suspect shock had wiped out a lot of my senses, since I found myself ripping off a piece of my shirt and handing it to him without a word.

As expected, he slapped my hand away. I shrugged.

"Seems I'm part of the new club. Do I get a ring? Is there a secret hand-shake?"

Ocelot bristled, baring teeth that were slightly marred with his own blood. "This is just a joke to you?"

I laughed, placing both hands on my hips. "At the moment, yes. Seeing you get the stuffing knocked out of you has been the highlight of my month!"

"Bitch." He sneered. "If I had it my way you'd be a bloated, blue corpse floating somewhere downriver."

I scoffed at him. This old routine was getting boring. "I hate you, you hate me. Let's hear something knew, hm?"

He crossed the room and lowered himself onto his mattress with a quiet creak, and I realised he hadn't demanded I leave yet.

"Listen," I sighed, suddenly tired of all the cryptic bullshit being thrown around wherever I went, "You or John need to get round to explaining what's happening here."

Ocelot spat at the ground, missing my foot by an inch. I didn't move, but I'm sure he could see my nails dig into my hips. All I had to do was hit him with a well-aimed blow and knock what might already be broken cartilage into his stupid, egotistical brain. It might not do me any favours in the long run, but it'd make me feel a hell of a lot better for now.

I reeled in my temper and glanced out of the open door. There was no way John would be in any kind of mood for story-telling, and right now I had all I needed to get to the bottom of this sat in front of me. So, with a few well placed words threatening to tell the entire base how he'd just been made John's man-bitch, I soon had him talking. To be honest, once he got started it was hard to make him stop. Either the blow to the head had temporarily unbalanced him or he'd forgotten I was even in the room – he did love the sound of his own voice, after all. He didn't even seem to mind when I fell onto the mattress next to him, turning a little white.

I hadn't expected...

"So that's what he meant, when he talked about The Boss I guess." I muttered to myself. Ocelot was across the room, washing his mouth out in the sink.

To be honest, the entire thing gave me a headache. It'd been a long time since I'd had to care about anything other then my own hide, but this did have some poetic justice to it...

Destroy The Philosopher's, bring The Boss' vision into reality...

I could get on board with this.

* * *

I spent at least an hour wandering the grounds trying to track John down. I stumbled across him by accident when I decided to give up for a while and get some rest. For all I knew he'd disappeared on me again. I'm sure he wasn't confined to the base like I was.

So when I opened the door and found him slumped at the end of my bed, I cursed a blue streak. He didn't even lift his head as I closed the door behind me.

His knuckles were slightly bloody on one hand; not with his blood, but Ocelot's. He seemed to be fixated by the red stain on his hands.

I bit my tongue, hesitating by the door for a second before crossing the room to sit at his side. His blind side.

"I'll not pretend I understand exactly what was going on back there..." I started softly, running my finger over his knuckles, gently but firmly so the blood came away in little flakes. When I pulled my fingers back they were slightly browned at the tips. "It's not like you were defending my honour or something."

No laugh, not even a 'hmph'. Well, I was only slightly joking.

I tried to ignore the stab of disappointment.

"But... Ocelot's told me what's going on, Zero's plans and such. I have to admit, it sounds a little crazy."

"It's the crazy plans that tend to work."

I let out a small laugh before we fell back into uneasy silence. His thumb was brushing against the back of his hand, back and forth. His hands were hard, covered in small scars I'd never really noticed before. With nothing better to do, I took it between my own, much smaller and slightly less calloused hands and began massaging it gently. "Can I ask you something?"

He looked at me tiredly. I'd forgotten he'd come straight to my room after returning from wherever the hell Ocelot had sent him. He must have been exhausted. I felt slightly guilty at the thought of him leaving him an 'urgent' message, just to get him straight back into my bed just to spite Ocelot. I brought his hand up to my lips and gently brushed them against his fingertips, thinking quietly to myself for a moment.

"You could have just told me all this before." I said eventually.

He shrugged, remaining strangely complacent in my grasp. "That's not a question."

"I guess I was wondering why you didn't. Why all the games?"

When he looked at me again it was much sharper then before, almost accusatory. "You're lecturing me about playing games, EVA?"

I held his gaze regardless of the uncomfortable squirm in my stomach. I must have gotten soft over the past few years to actually be feeling _guilty_.

"You know what, you look like you're going to keel over if you don't get some rest. Come on, you've got a room here somewhere right?"

He nodded briefly before I stood up, pulling his hand gently. He tugged me back down so I fell onto the mattress in a messy heap. I was about to protest when he kicked his feet up onto the bed and closed his eyes, placing his hands behind his head.

"Let's just stay here." He said, looking more drained then ever. I bit my lip and wavered for just a moment before settling down next to him, my head against his arm.

He fell asleep almost instantly, but even with the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest to lull me into unconsciousness, I still couldn't join him. Something was plaguing me. Some anxiety I couldn't quite understand.

I gave up trying to understand what was wrong with me and forced my eyes shut by pressing my face into his shoulder. I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I dreamt restlessly until the next morning when I woke up to find him gone.

Some things never change.

* * *

**Disclaimer: All rights to Konami. I own not a thing.**

AN: Again, for Russia who pulls out all sorts of ideas from the recesses of my mind!

I kind of got stuck plot-wise, but decided I was going for a more character based fic. Therefore, plot takes a back-seat to the relationships and development of characters as I try to practice making them more complex. Trying, and doing okay so far... in my opinion...

If anyone spots a mistake, please point it out so I can correct it. I do proof-read several times, but things always slip through. I tend to go back after a week or so just to pick up on any slip ups for all you grammar-nazis out there! (Kidding!)


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